


I'm not calling you a liar

by Vanimelda4



Series: Teenlock short stories [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanimelda4/pseuds/Vanimelda4
Summary: John's mother is livid.Some boy named Sherlock Holmes appears to have been roughing up her son.But does she have her facts straight?A short story made up out of crack, smut and fluff, because I had an idea that wouldn't go away.





	I'm not calling you a liar

Mrs. Watson was positively fuming. She did not get mad often, but when she did it usually involved one of her two children and you absolutely did not want to be at the receiving end of her wrath.  
The headmaster of the school John Watson attended was starting to realize this as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Hoping against all hope that a meteor would strike and end this conversation. 

'That Holmes boy is a menace!' Mrs. Watson said. Her tone so icy that the headmaster couldn't help but shiver.

'Granted he is a bit of an odd boy, but John's never complained about him', the headmaster replied. Giving the fury incarnate that sat opposite a weak smile. 

'Probably because he was too afraid to do so. Ever since YOU', here she pointed a well manicured finger at the headmaster as he tried to become one with his chair, 'made them do homework together after school my boy has been coming home with all kinds of bruises and injuries.' 

'I was only trying to do what seemed best', the headmaster replied nervously, 'Sherlock is top of his class madam and John has been falling behind with some of his grades. Are you absolutely sure Sherlock is the cause of your sons injuries? We've never had any complaints about him that involved physical violence'

This had been absolutely the wrong thing to say and as Mrs. Watson rose from her chair the headmaster wondered if he ever made a last will and testament.  
'Don't give me any of your excuses!', Mrs. Watson was pretty close to spontaneous combustion at this point. 'John finally opened up to me last night and told me that that Sherlock Holmes boy had been roughing him up. He was so scared, the poor thing. He even seemed terrified to talk to me!'

'I can imagine', the headmaster muttered under his breath. 

'Why, only a couple of months ago he was in so much pain because of that boy that he had trouble sitting down for a week. He couldn't even go to rugby practice. And my John is the captain of the team so this affects the school too. I just don't see why you're not taking this seriously!'

'We are taking this seriously madam', the headmaster tried in an attempt to defuse the ticking time bomb in female form at the other side of his desk. Thank god that desk was there. 'But without an actual complaint from John himself it will be difficult to actually take actions against Sherlock.'

'Is the word of his mother not enough? What kind of a school are you running here! My son', she leaned over the table as she said this and the headmaster almost fell over backwards trying to get away from her, 'came home with a broken nose two days ago. Again: because of that Holmes boy. I. Want. Him. Suspended.'

The headmaster swallowed. Had it gotten warmer in his office? It had definitely gotten warmer.  
'The school doctor had a look at his nose and it appeared to only have been slightly bruised madam', he swallowed again. Sinking lower and lower in his chair. Maybe if he crawled under his desk he could make a quick getaway. 

'It could have been broken!' Mrs. Watson thundered, 'And what does the extent of the injury even matter. That deviant laid a hand on my boy! I've been asking around and I've heard all kinds stories about him. He's been suspended before.'

'An entirely different matter', the headmaster raised his hands in front of him in an attempt to calm Mrs. Watson down, but also to at least have some sort of barrier up in case she tried to claw his eyes out.

'He set fire to a classroom!'. 

'The chemistry lab. He was left unattended. It will not happen again.'

'I don't care about the chemistry lab. I care about the well being of my son!'

Mrs. Watsons voice had become so loud at this point that the framed pictures of his wife and children that the headmaster had proudly displayed on his desk were starting to shake. He was starting to wonder if he'd ever see them again. This, he thought to himself, could take a while. 

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

John Watson groaned. He found himself with his back pressed against a wall in the old tool shed behind the school that nobody ever used anymore.  
Sherlock Holmes was standing in front of him. Sherlock Holmes being the reason why he found himself pressed against said wall at this moment.  
Sherlocks left hand had a firm grip on John's right shoulder and his right hand had a firm grip on Johns cock. 

John groaned again, closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall.  
'Bloody hell, Sherlock', he huffed, 'so good. Keep going.'

Sherlock grinned and chose this moment to claim Johns lips in a passionate kiss. Thrusting his tongue in and out of Johns mouth in a tempo that matched the strokes he was giving to his cock. 

'God, how are you so good at this', John managed to say in between kisses.

Sherlock just smiled and continued to trail a path of featherlight kisses from the corner of Johns mouth all the way to the point just behind his left ear where he knew John was most sensitive.  
'Practice', he said. His lips still on that oh-so-sensitive patch of skin, his voice deep and rumbling and John almost came then and there. 

Sherlock was starting to alternate his strokes now. Some fast, some slow, some barely touching at all and every once in a while he would swipe his thumb over the glans of Johns penis where more and more precum was starting to collect.

'Ah!' John said. 

Sherlock practically growled.  
'Come on John', he said in the deepest baritone he could muster, 'come for me. You're so close....... I can feel it. You feel so good in my hand........ So hot....... I want to see you come......come on, baby.' 

It was the endearment hat did it for John. With a shout he came. Shooting in Sherlocks hand and partly his school uniform.  
Sherlock kept kissing his lips, which were partly opened in a blissed out moan, and working his cock until John came down to earth again. 

'That was amazing', he said, beaming at Sherlock and slightly out of breath. 'kiss me again.'

Sherlock obliged. 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************

'Hey Sherlock', John said as they were now leaned side by side against the wall. Johns right shoulder pressed against Sherlocks left. Sherlock was smoking a cigarette. 

'Mmmmm', was Sherlocks reply. 

'I'm really sorry I told my mom you beat me up'.

Sherlock chuckled. 'I'm just surprised she believed that.'

John grinned. 'I panicked! When I came home with that banged up nose....I didn't know what else to say. When my sister came out to her she immediately sent her to some strict boarding school. I haven't seen my sister in a year.....I didn't want that to happen to us.' 

'Well, technically I did knee you in the face.' Sherlock said as he flicked away what remained of his cigarette before lighting another. 'sorry about that. It was a reflex' 

John snorted, 'if I had known that would be your response to a phenomenal blow job I'd have taken precautions.' 

'Next time', Sherlock said, the corners of his mouth curling up as he glanced at John from under his fringe. 

John laced their fingers together against the wall and turned his head towards Sherlock. 'definitely next time. I just hope you don't get suspended'

'It wouldn't be the first time. I don't mind'

'It would make it hard for us to see each other at school.'

'I'll just sneak into your room again at night.'

'Last time you did that I couldn't sit on my arse for a week,' 

'Not my fault my boyfriend likes it rough.' 

John was just staring at Sherlock now. Mouth slightly open in surprise.

'What?' Sherlock asked, the confidence sliding from his face and making way for insecurity and concern.

'You said boyfriend.' 

'Not good?', Sherlock flicked his second cigarette to the ground, only half of it had been smoked, and turned his body completely towards John. 'I just assumed...that is....if you don't want to.....'

'No, no, Sherlock, stop. Very, very good! This is just the first time either of us has said it out loud.' John was smiling that big smile Sherlock had initially fallen in love with and he couldn't help but kiss him. Both his arms now on either side of Johns head. Johns back pressed firmly against the wall again.

'Guess that makes it official', he said. 

'How long do you think before my mom comes looking for me again.'

Sherlock thought this over for a second. 'about ten minutes. Give or take.'

And before Sherlock had realized what was going on John had reversed their positions. Sherlock now the one with his back against the wall. John pressed firmly against him. His lips close to Sherlocks ear. His breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck as he spoke softly.

'Guess we should make this quick then.'

Now it was Sherlocks turn to close his eyes and lean his head back against the wall. He had an idea of what was coming and if he was right he was in for something very good indeed. 

And as John sank to his knees in front of him he knew he would not be disappointed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading *curtsies*
> 
> I now have the urge to write a short story where John gives Sherlock an awkward blow job and gets kneed in the face.


End file.
